Noah
by ourimaginationrunning
Summary: Noah Neely and companion Eric Schrader arrive for their mission, fresh from the New Zealand MTC.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He'd experienced this place too many times not to know that it was hopeless to deny the Devil's desires. Still, Noah Neely bit his lip, trying to swallow the urge to retch up his dinner. He felt sick to his stomach, and the noxious fumes that spiraled up from the smoldering ground weren't helping much. As he twisted and turned against the chains that bound him, the sharp metal digging into his flesh, a bead of sweat ran down his nose and leapt suicidally toward the flames, evaporating before it had a chance to reach the ground.

Chained to the great wall, Noah fought in vain against his bonds, struggling to free himself though he knew escape was impossible.

"Please! Heavenly Father, help me!" he cried, his hoarse voice cracking in time with the popping whips of fire that blazed under his brand-new dress shoes, mission-standard, a parting gift from his brother.

The flames slowly licked up around him, scorching his legs and setting fire to his marble-white missionary shirt. The agony was unbearable, but the scorch marks on his sleeves put his neat-freak mind over the edge. Just another way the Devil had truly personalized his torture. He screamed again and again, his voice breaking, begging for anyone – _anyone_ – to put him out of his misery. Noah looked upwards and saw Satan himself grinning down at him, his gnarled claws gripping the coal-black peaks that scraped the netherworld sky.

"What do you want from me?" screamed Noah, tears streaming down his face to hiss and crackle in the scorching blaze. "I'm trying, Heavenly Father knows I'm trying!"

"Heavenly Father!" the Devil laughed maniacally. "He doesn't want to listen to you anymore. He sent you here, didn't he?" Bending down, his gruesome face inches from Noah's own, he showed his sharp black teeth in a ghastly smile. "Suffer for your crimes, _sinner_!"

Noah screamed again as the flames shot up, no longer confined to the fiery ground. They licked at his ankles then leapt higher, scorching his legs and twisting them into bloody, black hunks of flesh. Then, just as he thought he couldn't bear any more, he felt the indescribable feeling of blunt spikes being hammered through the bone and sinew of his arms and feet. He arched his back and screamed, blood coursing down his body, until his throat faltered and his tears obscured his vision. As Satan mimicked his agonized pleas, something deep inside Noah broke. He felt his head fall forward onto his chest and his eyes roll back into his head, as he surrendered to the realization that Heavenly Father really had abandoned him. Even in this moment of complete desertion he still wasn't spared the pain, but he gave up, no longer struggling against his chains, as his frail body was wracked with wave after wave of agony.

"Noah," the Devil taunted over the hiss of the fire and the howling of his minions. "The boy who had to run away. Noah, the boy who couldn't face his fears like a man. Noah, the _failure_.

_Noah, Noah, Noah, Noah!_

"Noah!"

Noah felt himself being shaken awake by a hand on his shoulder. He started suddenly, momentarily blinded by the light streaming in the windows of the rickety bus. He blinked, unable to rid himself of the hellish scene still playing like a horror movie on the inside of his eyelids. For a moment he thought he could still hear Satan's laughter, and he shivered at the memory.

"Come on, Noah! Let's go! We're here!"

Sure enough, Noah looked through the window and found that the small bus had pulled up to a dusty bench with a sign saying "Kitguli Bus Stop". He exhaled slowly and glanced over at his mission companion, who was looking at him with concern shining in his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Noah gave a small smile. "Thanks for waking me, Eric."

The dusty-haired boy next to him smiled weakly. "It's Elder Schrader now, remember?"

"Oh- right. Of course." Noah wasn't sure that he'd ever get used to calling Eric by that clunky moniker. They'd been best friends since they were six and had caught each other drawing Moroni and Mormon in the sandbox at recess, and had hoped to complete their missions together for almost as long, a plan they'd abandoned when Noah's family packed up and moved halfway across the world to New York in sixth grade. The second Noah turned 18, he and his brother had moved back to New Zealand, even though it meant delaying their missions until they were 21.

"Hey Er- um, Elder Schrader?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad we got paired together."

"Me too, dork," Eric said, grabbing both men's suitcases. The bus driver honked rudely at them, reminding them in universal language that he had a schedule to keep. "Come on, we really should go," said Eric, heading to the front of the bus.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming," said Noah, hurrying to catch up.

Stepping off the bus into the bright Ugandan sunlight, he blinked hard and put his hand up to provide some protection. It didn't work – it was over a hundred degrees out, and there was no escaping the oppressive heat and glaring sun. So he gave up and instead offered his hand to the handsome redheaded man in a tight white shirt and regulation-length black slacks. He certainly didn't look like a district leader to Noah, but his nameplate read "Elder McKinley", so he figured this had to be the right man.

"Hi… I'm, uh, Elder Neeley."

"Nice to meet you, Elder Neeley. I'm Elder McKinley, the district leader for this area. And you," the man said, offering Eric his hand, "Must be Elder Schrader."

"Yep, that's me! It's really great to meet you," Eric said, pumping Elder McKinley's hand vigorously.

Noah could have kicked him. Really? Could he be any less professional? The two of them had talked about how they both really wanted to make good first impressions in Uganda, and this wasn't the way he wanted to do it. Still, Elder McKinley seemed to react warmly to Eric's friendly greeting, so things couldn't be _too_ strict around here. As if to confirm his thoughts, Elder McKinley smiled warmly and gestured to the man next to him.

"This is my mission companion, Elder Thomas," he said.

The thin man smiled broadly. "Hi there, guys!" He quickly stuck out his hand, arm straight. "Great to meet you!" Both men shook the Elder's hand.

"So, um, where do we sleep?" asked Eric awkwardly, trying to make a joke. Noah looked around, realizing for the first time that their "city of destination" consisted of a bench that functioned as a bus stop, a café that was really more of a lemonade stand, and a "Clothomart" that had three of its four windows covered up with dirty cloth.

Elder McKinley forced a small laugh. "Don't worry, home's a little farther away. You two ready to go?"

Eric nodded enthusiastically, but Noah's distress at the word "home" must have showed on his face because Elder McKinley smiled at him reassuringly.

"You might be a little nervous, but I promise we're all good guys. I'm sure you two will fit right in!" The man's easy laugh made Noah feel a little better, but he stiffened instead and looked away.

"Okay, let's get you two into the Jeep, shall we?" Elder McKinley picked up Noah's suitcase and put it gently into the second row. "Why'd you pack so light?" he asked the two of them, picking up Eric's bag.

"Oh, well, not much variation in standard missionary clothing," said Noah.

"No, I suppose not," Elder McKinley laughed again. "When I came to Uganda, I think I must have brought an entire carry-on just for my ties." He placed Eric's bag next to Noah's.

"Really?"

Elder Thomas jumped in. "Yeah. He brings them out on special occasions. We've been here almost a month and I don't think I've seen a repeat yet!" He climbed into the passenger seat of the car, his clean missionary uniform contrasting sharply with the sandblasted, open-top vehicle.

"Is it, uh, a quick ride?" asked Noah. Eric had been forced to spend a good five minutes convincing him to get on the rickety bus; he wasn't exactly a fan of non-standard means of transportation.

"Only about twenty minutes." The district leader flashed a bright smile at Noah again before hopping into the driver's seat. Though he was nervous, Noah's heart gave a little jump. Angry with himself, Noah bit his lip, closed his eyes, and took a sharp breath in. The feeling went away and Noah opened his eyes. "That's better," he thought, reassuring himself. "You're okay. It's okay. It's fine."

The first ten minutes of the car ride passed in silence, as Elder McKinley focused on the dirt road and his three passengers watched the African countryside roll by. It all looked the same to Noah – red mud and tan dirt, a few patches of sun-dried grass, maybe a tree or two. Every few minutes they'd spot a goat wandering nearby, its udders swollen with milk, or a scantily clad young boy running in the opposite direction. But for the most part, the whole area seemed to be deserted.

Finally Noah spoke up. "Um, I guess we're not in the village yet, but, uh, why aren't there any people around?"

Silence. Then– "Well, there's this guy. The General," Elder Thomas spoke up. "He's... not very nice."

"He shoots people." Elder McKinley said sharply.

More silence.

"Like… often?" asked Eric quietly.

Elder McKinley sighed. "No, not often, but often enough to scare everyone to Provo and back. They're all terrified to leave the village."

Noah released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "But... he doesn't live in the village."

"No," said Elder Thomas. "A few villages over. About half an hour on foot."

"What… what does he do?" Noah, though appalled, was fascinated. Here was a chance to prove to himself that he was brave enough, _man _enough, to handle a tough mission. It was why he'd requested Africa as his destination; that, and because it was so far away from either New York or New Zealand.

"It's harsh stuff. But that's why we're here, right?" Elder McKinley forced an uptick into his voice. "To save the people of Uganda by giving them something more positive to focus on – all they need is a little push. After all, Heavenly Father accepts everyone with a pure heart."

Noah winced.

"You okay?" asked Eric, almost under his breath.

"Yeah." Noah shook his head to rid himself of the thought of his nightly torture. "I'm… fine. Really."

"So, Elders, what's life like in New Zealand?" asked Elder McKinley, not noticing the boy's discomfort. Noah figured they were getting close to the village by now, though the scenery hadn't changed a bit. He stared out the side of the car, still a little freaked out by the lack of protective metal and glass.

"Elder Neely?"

Noah started, whipping his head around. "Sorry, yeah, my family's in New York but I lived in New Zealand when I was a kid and I guess I just missed it."

"So you moved back?"

"Yeah, my brother and I, we flew out on my 18th birthday. He's a year older than me. We enrolled the next day at the Auckland MTC." Noah looked away. No, he didn't want to talk any more about his family.

"And you, Elder Schrader? Do you miss your family yet?"

"Oh no, not yet. I think I'll be just fine without them. I've got five sisters."

The district leader laughed. Noah shifted his eyes away from the two of them and back onto the dusty road rolling under the jeep.

"Well, you're free now." A moment later – "Oh, we're getting close!"

Eric looked up to see a few huts in the distance. "Is that the village?"

"Yep!" said Elder McKinley proudly. "And that right there–" he pointed to a short whitewashed building– "is our headquarters. That's where we sleep, eat, and pray. That's home!"

Noah tried hard to focus on the building and not on the deplorable state of the huts around it. A woman was trying to thatch a roof while juggling a pitifully thin baby, trash was strewn everywhere, and – Noah worked hard to keep the bile down – piled against one of the larges huts was the rotting carcass of some sort of wild animal. His hands shaking, he forced himself to look away.

Elder McKinley pulled up in front of the building and quickly ushered them inside where the air smelled _too_ much like pine freshener and not enough like real oxygen. It was very plain – the door opened to a small living room featuring an old couch and a coffee table supporting several dozen copies of The Book of Mormon. A chalkboard featuring six names – and not much else – was the only decoration. Beyond that was the kitchen, almost smaller than the average bathroom, and a hallway which led to a few bedrooms.

"Elder Michaels, Elder Zelder, the new recruits are here!" called Elder McKinley. Two other elders were already inside waiting for them. They jumped up.

"Hi there!" They said, introducing themselves.

"I'm Elder Michaels, from Provo!" said the taller man. As he shook hands, Noah noticed with displeasure that the Elder's black hair was slicked down to the point where it was plastered against his head.

"And I'm Elder Zelder, from Tallahassee," said the shorter man, smiling at Noah, who smiled back shyly. "It's really great to finally meet you two."

"Nice to meet you too," said Eric. He stifled a yawn. "Sorry, long trip. Elder Neely here," he punched Noah in the shoulder, "Got some sleep on the bus, but I was up the whole time. Twenty hours."

"Wow, you guys must be exhausted," said Elder McKinley kindly.

"Well, shall we show you two your room?" offered Elder Michaels. "It's all ready and waiting for you."

"Um, sure! Thanks!" said Eric enthusiastically.

"I'd, um, like to stay up a little longer if that's okay with you," said Noah. _Anything to delay falling asleep again._

"Sorry, mission rules!" said Elder Thomas in a sing-songy voice. "Rule #41. Never retire after your mission companion!" He tapped his shirt pocket with his index finger, pointing out the missionary guidebook inside. "Where's yours?"

"Oh, I must have left it in my bag." Noah had read through the whole thing only once, while waiting for the plane to take off. He'd sort of known most of them already, but he wasn't looking forward to following the rules. No swimming? No road trips? No phones? It had almost made him want to get off right there on the runway and run home to his brother.

But no, Noah didn't give up. He didn't run away. He was a man now, a missionary, in Uganda of all places. He could do this.

Noah took a deep breath and, trying not to think about what the night would bring, walked purposefully toward his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Noah woke suddenly, panting heavily, the white sheets around him bunched up in his sweat-soaked fists. He kept his eyes closed but tried to focus on the unfamiliar sensations – the thin polyester blanket covering his feet, the sterile smell of pine air freshener, and the buzzing of the near-invisible insects that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Bit by bit, his hands relaxed and his breathing slowed until his heartbeat had returned to normal. Only then did he allow himself to open his eyes and focus on something other than the still-fresh memory of the night's torturous events.

He looked over at Eric, still asleep in his bed, and envied him for how peaceful and quiet his sleep seemed. Untroubled by nightly visitations from Satan, his mission companion almost always awoke chipper and bright, ready to start the day. Though Noah was anything but a morning person, his old friend's cheery smile could usually coax him out of the uneasy mood his own nightmares put him in. But Eric wasn't up, and Noah hated to wake him before he had to, preferring to take solace in the knowledge that at least one of them was at peace.

_I can wait a few minutes,_ Noah thought. _Then when the alarm goes off I'll get up and we can pray together before going to breakfast._

Looking over at the digital clock, its small green glow the only light in the room, Noah saw with a sinking heart that he wasn't just a few minutes early - it was three o'clock in the morning. Ever since he was a little boy it had been impossible for him to go back to sleep once his nightmares woke him, but he rarely woke this early. Consigned to his role as the sleep-deprived new missionary, Noah stretched his arms out to the sides and yawned. Then, sitting up, he reached under his bed and pulled out his suitcase.

It was an old-fashioned one, with latches and leather bindings. In fact, it was more than old-fashioned; it was the same suitcase his father had brought on his own mission thirty years ago. Although plain on the outside, the inside was plastered with stickers from Argentina, where Andrew Neely had spent almost two years as a missionary. He'd always talked about going back there, taking the family on vacation or something, but somehow there wasn't ever enough time or money. They never vacationed outside the country, but Noah was okay with that. He preferred to spend time with his family vacationing in the countryside rather than trekking across South America in search of his father's old haunts, anyway. It had been a shock when his dad suddenly announced one day they were moving to New York, the one surprise that he'd never really gotten over.

Noah shook his head to clear the memories away. _That was a long time ago. Today is the first day of my mission and I need to focus on that_. He pulled out a different set of underwear and laid it out on the bed. _I can't be distracted by other thoughts. Now is a time for me to spread the word, not question it._ He reached in and pulled out a thin white button-down, a black tie, and black slacks. _I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._ Ready to change, he looked over at Eric. Even though they'd known each other for eighteen years and had been best friends for almost as long, Noah still refused to change in front of him. And so now, even though Eric was asleep, Noah still pulled his sheet off the bed and around his shoulders before slipping off his underwear and changing hastily into his new clothes.

He'd worn the outfit probably hundreds of times, but never before had it felt so heavy on him. He hadn't yet gotten up the courage to wear his nametag, and even though he knew it was against regulation, he slipped it into his pocket instead of fastening it onto his chest. The weight of the word "Elder" in front of his name was just too much.

Noah glanced at the clock again. The display glowed softly in the dark room, tinting his regulation-white shirt pale green. 3:15. Noah sighed. No, he'd never be able to get back to sleep. He briefly debated pulling out and leafing through his copy of the White Bible, the missionary handbook, but decided against it and instead grabbed a towel and headed for the door.

His hand on the door handle, he paused. Rule 42 played like a broken record in his head. _Never arise before your companion. Never arise before your companion_. Noah knew Eric didn't mind if Noah was up before him; often during their 12 weeks of training Noah would wake from a nightmare, sticky with sweat and face streaked with tears. He quickly learned the best way to deal with it was to take a hot shower and let the scalding water wash away all the terrors of the night, so Eric learned to sleep with the water running, Noah learned to walk across creaky floorboards without making a sound, and both learned not to mention anything the next morning.

But it wasn't Eric that Noah was worried about – it was the other Elders. He had no idea whether they were heavy sleepers, or if they'd wake at the sound of running water. He couldn't imagine any of them were up at this hour – Elder McKinley had made it very clear that they were all to wake up at precisely 6:30 AM. Fortunately, Noah and Eric's room was only a few yards from the bathroom all six shared. Deciding to take the risk for the sake of his own sanity, Noah turned the knob and walked out into the hallway.

Slowly closing the wooden door behind him, Noah began to inch down the hallway. The first door he passed was open; it was an empty room, with nothing in it but two metal bed frames and two wooden dressers. A bedroom for the next pair of companions, he supposed. He edged past quickly and paused in front of the next door. This one had a small hand-drawn picture of two young men, one blond and one with dark black hair. Above their heads read the words, "Elder Michaels & Elder Zelder". _I had no idea we had an artist in the residence_, thought Noah to himself. He smiled, thinking of what a drawing on his own door might look like. Art was the only class he ever received an "Unsatisfactory" in. He supposed it might have been due to the fact that for their final project, A Study in Colors, he painted several canvases bright purple and named them "Grapejuice". Noah shook his head, pushing the memory away so he could focus on not waking up his fellow Elders. From inside the room he heard the quiet sounds of two young men who were very much asleep. He edged past that door, too, and headed for the bathroom.

Just before he pushed the door open, he paused. Was that…? He listened harder. He could just be imagining it, but he thought it sounded like someone humming, very, very quietly. He couldn't imagine who it was, so with one hand on the doorknob he twisted and pushed, looking to see if there was, in fact, someone–

He slammed the door shut, breathing hard. Yes, there was someone in there. Elder McKinley. A very _shirtless_ Elder McKinley. A very _shirtless_ Elder McKinley whose towel-dried hair was still _very_ messed up. A very _shirtless_ Elder McKinley whose every_ flawless curve and well-defined muscle _was now hammered into Noah's brain. And a very _shirtless_ Elder McKinley who had _seen_ him out of _bed_ at _three in the morning_ and was going to come out here and… Noah paused. _Wait. If he saw me out of bed at three in the morning, he was also out of bed at three in the morning. He can't punish me for doing the same thing, right?_

Noah mind was racing. His back against the door and his hands on either side of the doorframe, he sucked in air, trying to get his bearings. He knew he ought to be ashamed, but he wanted desperately to turn around, open the door again, and– _NO. Do NOT go there. Do NOT do that._ He closed his eyes and pressed his form harder into the door, forcing himself back into reality. Suddenly, the wood supporting his back disappeared and he tumbled backwards. He felt strong arms catch him, then lift him back up and steady him so he was standing upright again.

Elder McKinley stood in front of Noah, now fully clothed, his hands on each of Noah's shoulders.

"You okay?"

"I… uh…" Noah bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I mean, I didn't know, I was just…" he sighed, ashamed, and looked down at the ground. "I just had a bad dream and needed to clear my head."

"No, It's okay. I get it." Elder McKinley said kindly, removing his hands from Noah's shoulders. "Don't worry about walking in on me; we live together. It's bound to happen. I shouldn't have been up either, but as it so happens I was also having trouble sleeping."

Noah looked up. "But… I mean, I'm – we're – breaking the rules, aren't we? Don't we have to do penance, or something?"

Elder McKinley smiled. "It's your first day. I wouldn't worry about it. It'll be our little secret, okay?"

Noah's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "But… I should still tell Eric, right?"

Shrugging, Elder McKinley said, "If you want. If you feel something's worth sharing, you should always share it with your mission companion." He turned around and walked quickly and quietly back to his room, taking with him the aura of confusion.

Noah closed the door and _locked_ it, then shed his clothes and stepped into the shower. He ran the water, and though he normally turned the knob to hot, he didn't really mind the fact that hot water was a scarcity not to be used often. He sort of needed a cold shower anyway.

–––––––––––––––––––

At 6:20, Noah gently woke his mission companion by laying a hand on his shoulder. In the transition from dream to reality, Eric smiled softly and smacked his lips together a few times. Noah rolled his eyes.

"Did you dream about Thanksgiving again?" he asked, walking back to his bed.

Eric nodded as he yawned, sitting up in bed and stretching his arms out as far as they would reach. Smiling, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and reached for his suitcase.

"Here you go," said Noah, tossing his friend's clothes to him from across the room.

"Thanks!" said Eric happily.

"How are you always so chipper in the morning?" Noah asked enviously.

His companion shrugged, slipping his button-down over his underwear. "Must be the gravy."

"Must be the gravy," agreed Noah. Then, a little excited himself, he asked, "Do you know what we're doing today? Where we're going?"

"Nope, no idea."

"Are you excited?"

"Of course!"

"Nervous?"

"Well, duh. But we have each other, I'm sure it'll be fine."

Noah smiled at Eric. "I'm so glad we're together here. Even if it means I have to call you–" he stuck his tongue out in mock disgust– "_Elder_ Schrader."

Eric frowned a little bit. "Don't tease. It's important! It means we're doing the work of Heavenly Father. Spreading the Holy Word. It's a title of respect."

Noah sighed. "You're right, sorry."

"It's okay."

A minute of silence passed as Eric finished getting dressed. Noah turned away, more for himself than for Eric, and turned back only to comment on his friend's hair.

Noah laughed. "You're a mess, _Elder Schrader_. You look like you went through a tornado or something."

Eric self-consciously ducked his head and ran his hands through his dirty-blond hair, trying to calm it down. It was a complete failure.

"This isn't going to work. I need water to fix it." He stood up.

"But it's not 6:30 yet. I don't want to leave the room before we're supposed to."

"Fine." Eric sat back down, spit on his hands, and slicked them over his hair, smoothing it down. He looked up at Noah to find a look of disgust on his face.

"What?"

"Spit? Really? That's gross, Eric."

"Come on, Noah, everyone does it."

"Not me."

"Well of course _you_ don't, you're a neat-freak." He gestured to Noah's perfectly made bed. "How long did you spend tucking in those corners?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Exactly."

"So I like things to be tidy! So what?"

"So nothing. It doesn't bother me. I'm saying it shouldn't bother you when I fix my hair how I like it."

"But it's–"

"Noah."

"Fine." Noah sighed, then looked over at the clock. "6:31. Should we go?"

"Let's."

Both men walked out of the room to find the other four missionaries already in the living room. Elders Michaels and Zelder were sitting on the couch hungrily scooping cereal out of plain metal bowls, trying not to slosh any milk over the side. Elder Thomas was sitting on the floor, legs crossed and leaning against the couch, nibbling on a Poptart.

"Where's Elder McKinley?" asked Eric, walking into the kitchen.

"Coming!" called the redhead from the other room. Noah looked up, but quickly looked back down as Elder McKinley came in. _You can't even look at him properly._ He could hear the deep, taunting voice of the Devil, just inches away from him. He could almost hear the black lips smacking in his ear, feel the foul, heavy breath on his neck, whispering. _Sinner…_

Fighting the urge to turn around and reassure himself that that no one was there, Noah grabbed a stool from the kitchen counter and pulled it around so he could face the chalkboard Elder McKinley was standing in front of. He pulled his eyes upward until they met the other man's, forcing himself to look straight into his eyes. McKinley looked back, smiling a bit, but obviously a little confused at the intensity radiating from the new Elder's stare.

"You okay, Elder Neely?"

Noah forced a small smile, trying to fake casualness. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… a little tired, is all." _Dang it, why on earth would you bring last night up? _Noah scolded himself harshly. Then he shook his head. _No, that's okay, I'm sure he didn't even realize. It's okay._ He continued smiling, hiding the confusion going on in his head.

"Okay, well, today's Prep Day, so you'll be home basically the entire time; if you get tired, you can take a nap, we'll understand." The district leader smiled kindly at Noah.

"No," said Noah, making his voice stronger. "I think I can handle it. What exactly does Prep Day entail?" He remembered learning about it at the MTC, but he knew every mission did theirs differently.

Suddenly Eric's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Um… Elders? Why are all these cabinets filled with Poptarts?"

Noah looked at the men sitting on the couch. Elder Thomas was grinning sheepishly, his normally pale face turning bright red.

"Oh, um, those are mine," he said, trying to hide the pastry he was still nibbling at behind his back.

"All of them?" asked Eric incredulously, coming back into the room.

Elder Zelder rolled his eyes. "His parents gave him a ridiculously large allowance, but will he spend it on normal food? No. He spends it all on Poptarts."

"You just don't appreciate how delicious they are!" yelled Elder Thomas, getting visibly upset.

"Elders, Elders! Please!" Elder McKinley, going into District Leader mode, stepped forward and putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "As long as he's sharing and it doesn't violate any rules, Elder Thomas is allowed to spend his personal money on whatever he desires."

"You're just taking his side because you're his mission companion," pouted Elder Zelder. Noah had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The nineteen-year-old was acting like he was in third grade.

"No, I'm taking his side because he's right," said Elder McKinley evenly. "Now, let's divvy up the chores. Once everyone's finished, we'll meet back here for some P & P!"

"P and P?" asked Noah, suspicious.

"Prayer and Party!"

Noah raised an eyebrow. He'd never been particularly good at either of those, and he wasn't looking forward to doing both in front of people he'd just met.

"Oh, it's fun!" said Elder Michaels, standing up and taking his bowl over to the sink. "We all say a short prayer together, then we go off somewhere outside and have a little one-on-one with Heavenly Father."

"After fifteen minutes," interrupted Elder Thomas excitedly, "We all come back and then we play games so we can all bond! The Monopoly part was my idea," he said proudly.

Noah smiled. He was still a little unsure about the one-on-one, but the rest sounded enjoyable enough. "Is this every week?"

"Well," said Elder McKinley, "The other Elders and I have really only been here for about three weeks, but we've done it all three Prep Days. It's a sort of get-to-know you exercise as well."

"Three weeks?" Noah was surprised. "But… you're all so well-organized here. Missionaries have been here for less than a month, and you already have all this set up?" He gestured to the fully stocked kitchen, the chores board, and the stack of books on the table.

"Well Elder Clark and Elder Wright – those are the British missionaries who prepped the building for us – came here toward the end of April, established relations with the villagers, set up the furniture for us, and that sort of thing. Then Elder Thomas and I arrived a month later, helped them finish, and started interacting with the villagers, just talking to them and finding out what hardships they faced, sometimes trying to teach them about the Church…. Elder Michaels and Elder Zelder came just a few days after us, and they helped us, too."

"So when did Elder… Clark? And the other one? When did they leave?"

"Elder Wright. They left about a week ago, once they thought we were settled in." He laughed. "Actually, it was getting pretty lonely with just the four of us. We were really looking forward to you two coming." He smiled genuinely at Noah and Eric, and Noah had to look away again. _No. No. You can do this._

"Well, we're glad to be here," said Eric, pulling another stool into the living room and setting it beside Noah. "Now, what chores are our responsibilities?"

The rest of the morning went quickly; Noah and Eric cleaned up the dishes and wiped down the counters, leaving the kitchen and living room sparkling clean. The other Elders cleaned the washrooms, really just small sink in a tiny room next to each bedroom, the main bathroom, picked up trash outside… whatever needed to be done to keep their 'home', as Elder McKinley insisted on calling it, in tip-top condition.

Around ten o'clock they all gathered in the living room again. Noah expected Elder McKinley to hand out prayer packets or something, and was confused when he pulled out a very dog-eared copy of the Book of Mormon, moving the others to the kitchen counter. The other five elders arranged themselves in a small circle in the center of the room, the furniture pushed to the sides. They bowed their heads, and – in a rather unorthodox move that made Noah more than a little uncomfortable – held hands.

Noah tried not to fidget as Elder McKinley joined the circle and started reading from the Book.

"Alma thirty-nine. 'And now, my son, I would to God that ye had not been guilty of so great a crime. I would not dwell upon your crimes, to harrow up your soul, if it were not for your good.'"

Suddenly, Noah stiffened. He knew what was coming – he'd heard it too many times not to know it by heart. Elder McKinley's soft voice suddenly turned hard as he formed the words, no longer looking at each of the Elders in turn, trying to pass on his message, but staring down at his text. But his eyes were hard and he was enunciating each word as if he, too, had them memorized.

"But behold, ye cannot hide your crimes from God; and except ye repent they will stand as a testimony against you at the last day. Now, my son, I would that ye should repent and forsake your sins, and go no more after the lusts of your eyes, but cross yourself in all these things, for if not ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God."

Noah took in a shaky breath and felt Eric, on his right, squeeze his hand. Eric could always tell when Noah was upset, even if he didn't know why. Noah sent a silent prayer skyward thanking Heavenly Father for sending him such a friend, but then realized the irony of his action. Bitterly, he pulled away a little bit, letting his hand loosen and let go of Eric's. Then he turned his attention back to Elder McKinley, who was continuing to read.

"…And I command you to take it upon you to counsel with your elder brothers in your undertakings, for behold, thou art in thy youth, and ye stand in need to be nourished by your brothers, and give heed to their counsel."

Elder McKinley closed his book softly and placed it on the couch behind him, then rejoined the circle and picked up Elder Thomas' and Eric's hands.

"In light of today's reading, I would recommend that you focus today's prayer and the rest of the week on self-mastery and your relationship with your companion." He took a deep breath, then continued. "The world is a scary place sometimes, but let us pray that we can find it within ourselves to ask Heavenly Father all our questions, in the knowledge that if we ask with open minds and open hearts, the answers will come. Amen."

"Amen," echoed the rest of the Elders. Quietly, the circle broke apart and the Elders drifted outside, each seeking a peaceful place to conduct their own discussions with Heavenly Father. Noah found himself drawn to the back of the missionary quarters, where the well was located. He walked up to it and stared down into the murky water, too muddy to even show his reflection.

_Heavenly Father?_ Noah felt a little silly talking to himself. He could never convince himself that Heavenly Father was really listening; he preferred to think that he was sending a message to Heavenly Father, one he'd have to read later. It made him feel better when his questions went unanswered – Heavenly Father just hadn't gotten to them yet.

He knelt on the ground, putting his elbows up on the side of the well and resting his chin on his fists. Closing his eyes, he continued. _It's me. Noah. I… well, I don't really know what I'm doing. I've never been much of a prayer person, and I try, I really do, and I thank you every day for what you've given me, it's just… well, I struggle sometimes. But I'm working hard, I really am, trying to change for the better. I'm going to sin, I know that, but I'm always working on being a better person. You know that. You have to know that. And I know you're only looking out for me, trying to remind me of what's important, what I need to focus on. I know you send me There most nights because that's where I belong, that's what I need in order to better myself. I understand that. One day, one day, when I'm bigger and better and stronger and whole, I'll thank you for all of this. I know I will. But right now, well, it's tough. And if there's anything you can do, any sign you can send, anything so I know you haven't given up faith in me… that I'm not a lost cause…_

Noah broke down. Taking deep breaths, willing himself not to make any noise, he allowed a single tear to slip down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away and screwed his eyes shut. _I can do this, Heavenly Father, I know I can. Just please, don't give up on me. Don't consign me to Hell and leave me for a sinner. I can be better. I can fix myself._

_Please. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Eric Schrader knelt on the dirt at the edge of a field, his knees on his polyester jacket so his clean black pants wouldn't get any stains on them. He looked over at his companion kneeling by the well and smiled. Noah had never been all that great at following rules, and he frequently forgot about Number 72 – "Do not leave your mission companion." Still, Eric didn't really mind having to be the one to tag after his friend, reminding him not to get too far away. It was an easy job, and one he did gladly if it meant it helped Noah be a better missionary.

He had always been confident Noah would make a good Elder. He'd known ever since they were eight and had started sitting together in meeting – Noah had always stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the older boys who gave testimony or talked about their missions. When Eric's older brother Ben had left for his mission to Peru, Noah had been at their house almost every day asking about what Ben had been doing, if they'd had any mail from him, when he was coming home… he'd almost been more excited than Eric when the Elder finally came home. In fact, Noah had called Ben 'Elder Schrader' for almost two months, even though he was just 'Ben' to everyone else. That was seven years ago, but maybe it was the reason Noah had such trouble calling _him_ Elder Schrader – he still thought of Ben that way.

Eric shook his head to clear it and looked at the ground, trying to judge the distance between him and Noah. Were they far apart? Maybe, but they were close enough to be considered 'together' if any of the other Elders noticed, that's what mattered. He knew Noah sometimes needed his space, and he did his best to give it to him. But, he remembered, he was supposed to be praying. He needed to focus on himself, and his relationship with his Heavenly Father. Eric bowed his head, interlocked his fingers, and smiled. He loved this position. He loved the comfort it brought him, the sureness that Heavenly Father was listening. He rarely entered prayer with a clear mind or a single purpose, but he always left feeling sure and collected.

_Heavenly Father – I want to thank you for this time I have to share the scripture with others, to introduce them to your Word and the Word of your prophets. Please give me the strength I need to teach with compassion and understanding. I want to thank you for my family, for Mom and Dad, who I'm sure have already written me tons of letters – they are wonderful parents, and they've raised me right, and I have you to thank for that. Thank you for Ben and for Lisa; they are so perfect together; I see your hand every time I look at them. Thank you for Hannah and Danielle, and please protect them and see that they are safe and healthy. I know they're big girls, but Hannah's just graduated and she needs your steady hand, and Danielle's starting college in a month… I know they'll be okay with you there to help them. Thank you for Lila and Michelle and little Claire, and please protect them and guide them in all their endeavors. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. _

Eric opened his eyes, smiling slightly. He did feel better. Looking up at the sky, he closed his eyes again and let the warm sun beat down on his face, basking in the glow of the Ugandan sun. After a few glorious moments, he looked over at Noah.

To his surprise and distress, the Elder saw his friend shaking slightly as he kneeled by the well. Eric's eyes widened in concern. Noah's whole body posture slumped as he sobbed silently into the unforgiving harshness of the stone, his arms stretched unnaturally taut, supporting the whole weight of his body. Even from several meters away, Eric could see the sunlight glint off the tear rolling down Noah's cheek. He wanted to stand up, run over to his friend, take him in his arms and tell him everything was okay, but he couldn't. And clearly it wasn't okay. But as he watched, Noah took several deep breaths and sat up a little straighter. Eric quickly bowed his head and clasped his hands tightly together.

_Heavenly Father, I don't know what's going on with Noah. Elder Neely. Noah. I don't know and I'm sure you do but I don't know how to help him, and I_ _know I am there for him and I think he knows that but oh, please, if there's anything I can do… please send him to me. I think he will go to you first, I _think_ he will, but just in case he feels like he can't, send him to me. That's my prayer, my biggest desire, Heavenly Father, please, grant me the wisdom to help however I can, and may Noah have the strength to pull through this – whatever this is – as well. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Noah sighed and stood up, carefully brushing the dirt off his black pants. He looked around to see if he could see any of the other Elders. A few hundred feet away, under a broad tree, he could make out what looked like Elder Michaels and – he assumed – his mission companion. Elder… Zelder? Yeah, that was it. They were kneeling next to each other, facing toward him but their heads bowed so it was hard to see their faces.

Out of habit, Noah ran his hand through his short hair, making it stand on end, before remembering that it was supposed to be parted to the side. He smoothed it over to fix it, and looked toward the mission house to see Elder McKinley on the corner of the porch, on his knees, and Elder Thomas just a few feet away from him doing the same. That accounted for all of them, except-

Noah felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and jumped, startled, before turning around to see that it was only Eric.

"Oh, Er- Elder Schrader. You scared me!" said Noah, smiling, his hand over his heavily beating heart.

"Heh. Sorry about that," said Eric sheepishly. "Um…You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?" Noah peered into Eric's face, searching. He had been silent. There was no way Eric could know what was going on… right?

"No reason. Just checking." Eric smiled broadly at Noah, then grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward the house. "Come on, let's go!"

"What are you so eager for?" asked Noah warily.

"Remember? P and P?"

Noah looked at him quizzically. Then a look of comprehension dawned on his face. He'd completely forgotten that the other Elders had planned a few hours of fun and games. Smiling slightly, he inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath. "Okay. Yeah. That'll be good."

"Elder Neely…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Elder Schrader, I'm fine. Please."

Eric paused for a moment, frozen, then nodded. "Okay. Let's go play some games, shall we?"

"Come on," said Noah smiling. The two headed inside, where Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas had moved inside and were already waiting for them with a stack of cards, a board game, and a plate of Poptarts.

"Elder Thomas? You're really sharing those?" called another voice. Noah turned around and saw the other pair of missionaries walking in through the door. Elder Michaels was smiling, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"It's a special occasion!" announced Elder Thomas happily. "I always share on special occasions."

"Okay," said Noah, reaching for a pink one. "These are strawberry right?"

Elder Thomas nodded encouragingly. "My favorites!"

Noah laughed and took a bite. "Mmm, delicious! I forgot how good these were!"

The other Elder beamed, as proud as if he'd made them himself.

"Okay Elders," said McKinley, gesturing to the space he'd cleared in the middle of the living room. "It's time to start the party!"

Noah sat down, carefully folded his hands in his lap, and watched as the other Elders pulled out the game board and directions. Not used to acting informally around other missionaries, he felt a little out of place as he watched them setting up. Eric noticed and gestured for him to join in, but Noah just shook his head.

"I can't believe you're making us play _trivia,_ Elder Zelder! You're the worst!" complained Elder McKinley good-naturedly.

"Hey, you're just complaining 'cause you two always lose!" said Elder Michaels, defending his mission companion. He smiled at the district leader to show that he was just joking around.

"Always? We've only played once before!" laughed McKinley in return. He threw the deck at Eric. "Could you shuffle?"

"Sure," said Eric.

"Okay, okay," said Elder Thomas, pulling out the game pieces. "We've only got four colors, so who wants to be-"

"We call blue!" shouted Eric, dropping the deck and stretching his out his hand eagerly. Elder Thomas dropped the bright wooden triangle into his palm.

"We do?" asked Noah, a little upset that his friend hadn't consulted him.

"Um… sorry, did you want a different color?" asked Eric awkwardly.

Noah felt bad, and ducked his head. "No, sorry, blue's fine. Really."

"It's okay. You sure?"

"Yeah, _Elder_ Schrader." Noah smiled at this. "It's fine, really."

"Okay! We call pink!" yelled McKinley, way too enthusiastically. All the other Elders giggled a little, hiding their amusement behind their hands so as not to embarrass their district leader.

"Ugh, Elder McKinley," said Elder Michaels, rolling his eyes and laughing. "You always pick pink!"

"Well, it's a nice color!" said Elder McKinley, blushing a little.

"Besides, it's the best flavor of Poptarts!" defended Elder Thomas. He reached for another one, but his companion slapped his hand away.

"We only have a few left; if you eat them all now, what are you supposed to do until we go shopping this afternoon?"

"I can manage," pouted the tiny man, stuffing half of the next Poptart into his mouth. He moaned a little, his mouth closing around the treat, and savored the flavor.

"Does he ever stop eating those?" asked Noah, a little put off by the display.

"_Never_," said Elder McKinley. "Only when we're in the actual act of speaking to a Ugandan about the Church. He even keeps a box in his backpack to eat on the way from one hut to the next!"

"Do not!" said Elder Thomas, sticking out a crumb-covered tongue.

"Do too!" said Elder McKinley. He grabbed the other man's backpack, which was leaning against the couch behind the district leader.

"Hey! Give me that!" yelled Elder Thomas, making a grab for his bag.

"No way," said Elder Michaels, holding the thin man down as Elder McKinley unzipped the bag, reached in, and pulled out his prize – a nearly empty box of S'mores-flavored Poptarts.

"So the truth comes out," teased Eric, taking the box from Elder McKinley and shaking it. "Hmmm, sounds to me like there's one little Poptart left." Eric undid the cardboard flap and took out the single pastry.

"You… wouldn't… dare!" said Elder Thomas, his face bright red and his voice out of breath from struggling against Elder Michaels' strong arms.

"You're right, I wouldn't." said Eric, lowering his arm.

Elder Thomas let go of a big breath. "Thank goodness!"

"But I bet Elder Neely would!" Eric tossed the snack to Noah, who caught it easily. He checked the other Elders' faces, looking for guidance. McKinley was trying to contain his laughter at Elder Thomas's bright red face, Elder Michaels was giggling as he pinned Elder Thomas to the floor with very little effort, and Elder Zelder was looking quite pleased at all the commotion. He felt nervous with everyone's eyes on him; they were all waiting for him to take a bite.

Still, one look at Elder Thomas' pained face and Noah just couldn't do it. He sighed. "Okay, Elder Thomas. I'll surrender and give you this Poptart, if–"

"No! Eat it!" encouraged Elder Michaels, laughing.

"Elder Neely! Please!" begged Elder Thomas, straining against Elder Michaels' muscled arm.

"Wow, you really are attached to these, aren't you?"

"Yes! I love them!"

"Well, if you love them so much, _Elder Poptarts_, you can have this one back."

Elder McKinley burst out laughing, the last vestiges of his District Leader demeanor flying out the window. He collapsed onto his side, laughing hysterically. "Elder Poptarts! O.M. Gosh, that's just…"

"Too good!" roared Elder Michaels, letting Elder Thomas go.

The poor man rushed at Noah, grabbing the Poptart and stuffing it into his mouth before anyone else could take it from him. He stood in the corner, sniffling. "That's not funny you guys!" he pouted, looking out over the other five boys, all of whom were in varying states of uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh Elder Thomas, " said McKinley, pulling on his companion's arm so he'd sit down again. "You know we're just teasing. We've all got our quirks. We just appreciate that you're so… obvious about yours."

"Yeah," added Elder Zelder. "We'd call Elder McKinley 'Elder Funky Ties' if he wasn't our district leader."

Elder Thomas had to giggle a little at that one. Elder McKinley looked down at his tie and blushed, seeing the flashy array of squiggles and stripes that, he thought, just brightened up his otherwise dreary missionary uniform.

"What's so wrong with my ties?" he asked.

Elder Thomas just smiled and shook his head.

"I like them," said Noah, venturing a comment.

"Thank you, Elder Neely," said the other man. Then, turning to his companion: "Come on, Elder Thomas. We won't call you Poptarts if you don't want us to, we promise. Right guys?"

The other Elders nodded, promising. Elder Thomas blushed a little. "No… actually, it's okay. I don't really mind."

"You don't mind?" repeated Eric.

"No… actually, I kind of like it," smiled the thin man shyly.

"Elder Poptarts it is then!" chorused Elder McKinley and Elder Michaels, clapping their hands.

Everyone laughed a little as they reached around them to find the little pieces they'd kicked every which way during their individual fits of laughter. After all the pieces had been retrieved from the corners and from under the chairs, the six Elders sat around the trivia board. Elder McKinley placed his pink block on the starting square next to Noah and Eric's blue one.

"Elder Michaels?" he asked. "What color do you guys want?"

"Can we take green? Please?" asked Elder Zelder, holding up the piece to his eyes. It matched his iris hue-for-hue.

"You want green because it _matches _your_ eyes_?" sneered Elder Michaels. "Really, Elder?"

"What so wrong about that?"

"Ugh, what a queer," said Elder Michaels to Noah, rolling his eyes and jerking his thumb at his mission companion. "I can't believe I got stuck with this _homo_!" He laughed at his own joke.

Everyone else was silent. Elder Thomas tried to laugh, if only to lighten the atmosphere, but he couldn't do it.

"Elder Michaels." McKinley was the first to speak, putting the deck he'd been shuffling down on the ground and turning his head to look straight at the other missionary.

"What?" said the Elder indignantly. "I was just messing around!" He turned to his companion. "Elder, come on, I was just joking."

Elder Zelder didn't respond.

"I know you're not gay – you know that right? I was just messing around. Geez, just man up a little." He turned to the rest of the group, looking for some agreement. "Guy can't even take a little joke!" The only one who would look him in the eyes was his district leader, and he was not happy.

"Elder Michaels, that was completely inappropriate and unwarranted," said McKinley, his voice tight.

"What? It was just a joke!"

"It was not a funny one."

"I don't know why not. I mean, it's not like any of us are–"

"_Elder._ _Michaels._"

Elder Michaels stopped protesting, but he didn't apologize either. The room was silent for another moment, and then Elder Zelder quietly cleared his throat. "It's just…" He took another breath, gathering strength. "Two… two of my brothers were diagnosed with SSA in the past three years."

A small ripple of shock went around the room. Elder Michaels' face dropped.

"Oh… I'm so sorry, Elder Zelder. I had no idea."

"It's okay, no one really does." He took a deep breath. "Joseph's getting treatment for it and it's working, he responded really well to the therapy, but Leo…" The man couldn't handle it and broke down, tears streaming down his face. No one knew what to say. Elder Thomas awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

Noah turned to Eric, confused and hurting for Elder Zelder. Keeping his voice to a whisper, he murmured, "What's SSA?"

"Same-Sex Attraction," said Elder McKinley in a loud, monotonic voice. Noah stared at him.

"Are… are you serious?" He searched his district leader's face for any sign of compassion. Any feeling at all, even disgust. But McKinley's face was a blank canvass.

"That's a _disease?_" said Eric, shocked.

"What, you've never heard of it? Everything's just fine and dandy in New Zealand? No SSA to pollute your perfect paradise?"

"No, I just–"

"You just _what?_" shot back Elder Zelder. "You just didn't realize that sometimes people are born into a life full of sin? That some people have to live their whole lives watching their older brothers give in again and again to temptation? That some people have the _pleasure_ of watching the Devil torture their family daily – and _succeed_?"

Elder Zelder was standing up now, almost yelling. He turned to Elder Michaels. "What the heck is wrong with you? I told you about Leo and Joseph the very first day we met, and now I find out you don't care? You're an awful person, Elder!" He slammed his fist down on the rickety table, making them all jump.

"Elder, please, calm down," tried Elder McKinley.

"No! I will not calm down! My older _brother_ has a _boyfriend_, you guys! He has _sex_ with _men_ and he _likes_ it, and he won't even admit that what he'd doing is wrong! He refuses to listen to me, he refuses to read the Bible… My older brother is _going to Hell_, and all you can do is tease me about the color piece I want to use for trivia?"

"Well, it's not really Hell, it's just –"

"The Telestial Kingdom," said the Elder in a mocking voice. "Ex_cuse_ me." He turned bitter again. "Does it even matter? When you die, you all get to be with your families forever. Not me. We'll have to live for all of eternity knowing that Leo is missing. And maybe Joeseph too. I _love_ them, you guys!" He sunk down to his knees. "I _love_ them, but they're sinners. They're _evil_. And I can't do anything to help them…"

Noah felt himself welling up, but he refused to let anyone else see. He pushed himself off the wooden floor the palms of his hands, stood up, and walked quickly out of the room. But he stayed just outside the living room, in the hallway, listening in.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I should…"

"No, let me."

Noah heard Eric get up and quickly dropped to the ground so it didn't seem like he'd been listening. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the tears before Eric saw them. Slowly, he felt the other Elder sit down next to him and lay a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Noah whipped his head around to see Elder McKinley – not Elder Schrader – next to him.

"What are you doing here? Where's Eric?"

"He's… he didn't really know what to do."

Noah heard more quiet sobs coming from the living room and Eric's voice trying to comfort Elder Zelder.

"Oh! Is he… okay?"

"He'll be alright. We're all hurting for Elder Zelder. The real question is, are you okay?"

Noah looked up into his leader's face, less than a foot away. McKinley's eyebrows were raised and knitted in concern; his lips were slightly parted and glowing slightly from the light glinting off the moisture resting there. Then their eyes connected. A bright blast of blue hit Noah and for a split second he stopped breathing. He turned away, his breath returning in hurried gasps.

"I'm… fine."

"Are you sure?" That soft, sweet, voice. _No._

"Yes, I'm sure. Please. I need Eric."

McKinley was silent for a moment, then he stood up.

"Okay. I'll go get Elder Schrader."

_Elder Schrader. Right_. Noah could have kicked himself.

Elder McKinley turned the corner and a few moments later, a tear-stained Eric came into the hallway. Without a word, he sat down next to Noah, took his hand, and squeezed once. Then he just sat there, not letting go, and not speaking at all.

Finally, with Eric there, Noah could let himself go. He let one huge sob rip from his throat, then took big, heaving mouthfuls of air until he was composed enough to handle himself. He began his mind for a joke, a song to play, anything else to focus on besides what had just happened in that room.

He settled on "Yellow Submarine". It was repetitive, he knew it well, and it was catchy enough to distract him. Perfect.

_In the town where I was born, lived a man who sailed to sea…_

He sank into the song, remembering Jessie dancing to it at her seventh-grade talent show. Remembering Dean practicing it with his "band" in the garage. The song continued to play in his head as his mind rolled through other images of his family – his dad throwing a football around with him and Kyle on the Fourth of July, his mom trying to teach Nick how to barbeque so at least one of the men in the family would be able to cook, how handsome Caden had looked as the ring-bearer at their cousin's wedding… he knew what Heavenly Father was trying to tell him.

"I don't want to lose them," Noah breathed quietly, trying to stop the tears.

"Shhh… It's okay," said Eric quietly, breaking his silence. "I know you miss your family. It's hard to be away from them for so long. But we can write letters, and you can talk to me, and it will get easier. I promise."

Noah smiled in spite of himself. Eric didn't get it, and if Noah succeeded, if he was capable enough to resist, he never would. But Eric was a good friend – a best friend – and he was trying his hardest to help. That was all that mattered. Noah turned up the volume and paid close attention to his song, blocking everything else out.

_We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine. We all live…_

As the song ended, Noah smiled again. He could barely remember what had been wrong in the first place. He took a breath and turned to Eric.

"Thanks, bud."

"You okay?" Eric looked carefully at him, making sure everything was all right.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Noah smiled. "Let's go do some trivia."

_I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm okay._


End file.
